20. Return to the Sea

20. Return to the Sea

As low tide approached on the day of new moon, Ramorran left his home and walked to the cavern's beach while the entire tribe watched. Despite the crowd, it was silent but for the slap of waves against the rocks.

He supposed he should be grateful no one shouted abuse, or threw anything, but the hatred was so strong he could almost taste it. The mood of the tribe was firmly against him, as though the declaration of guilt allowed them to push every ill onto his shoulders and be rid of it all with his death. And their silent, disapproving regard was just as uncomfortable as pushing and shoving would have been.

He felt dizzy, as though he weren't truly present in his body. He hadn't felt himself since the judgement had been delivered. He'd spent the time since then struggling to make himself believe his people were really going to kill him, and he had to find a way out or he was going to die.

So far, nothing had worked. He'd been securely imprisoned and when he'd appealed to Vonda to let him slip away, never to return, she'd refused. He should have expected that. Vonda saw everything in black and white, just like their father. Family meant nothing compared to the rules the tribe clung to.

On the beach, he was roped to Wengar and Vonda, cutting off the final chance of escape through the waves.

"I'll go first," Wengar said when they were up to their waists in the water. He ducked, diving through the gap that led to the outer cave and the bright, outside world beyond. The rope tugged and Vonda cleared her throat impatiently.

Ramorran paused only long enough to take a deep breath before letting his restraints pull him under. Underwater, his fingers traced the rocks that crowded either side. The desire to escape tumbled through his mind, but that was impossible. And if he managed it, Vonda and Wengar would come after him. And then they'd find a way to make his fate worse – if there was a worse. The only way through was to face his fate head-on.

His heart thrummed as he clambered out of the water onto the rocks, Wengar in front and Vonda behind. This couldn't really be happening. Something would intervene. It couldn't be the end of his life when he'd just found something worth living for.

Wengar's steps scattered pebbles that had washed onto the path, a tribute from the sea he used to think when he was a child. Now, he knew they were just pebbles and the sea was simply doing what it always did.

He heard Vonda's breaths behind him, her steady footsteps. Neither was paying much attention to him. A troubling chore. The sound of the waves filled the air, gulls crying as they wheeled where the cove opened up to the blue sky. Sunlight sparkled off the restless waves. It was a beautiful day. His heart ached. The place that had been haven and home to Ramorran was shortly to bring his death. He was being forced to leave all this beauty behind when he desperately wanted to stay.

It was low tide and the rocks were damp, waves throwing up crests of white that spattered the inside of the cave before retreating. Reality swam again and he focused on his feet on the narrow path so he wouldn't stumble and trip.

"There." Wengar stopped and unfastened the rope connecting them.

Ramorran glanced around the cave. One of the rocks had been prepared for his death, a rope dangling down from the top. When he peered closer he could see a second shifting to and fro in the water at the bottom, waiting for him to be tied by them. He bit back hysterical laughter, wondering who'd taken on the unpleasant job of securing the ropes. Probably Wengar himself. He glanced back. No, doubtless Vonda had done it, distancing herself from her brother's failings by her enthusiasm to punish him for them.

"Get in place." Wengar gestured impatiently.

Ramorran took a step forward and hesitated. The sea was right there. He longed to jump between the rocks and swim away.

"Have some dignity," Vonda said behind him, as though she could read his thoughts.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, moving cautiously over the slippery surface. Odd, since he was shortly to die, but he didn't want to slip and break a leg. Wengar and Vonda crowded behind him. Perhaps they were eyeing the open sea nervously while he'd been doing so with yearning in his heart.

He reached the designated rock and stood on an outcropping, settling his back against the worn-smooth surface. Vonda scrambled behind him, reaching the top of the rock to fasten his wrists.

That left Wengar scrabbling about in the waves to secure the end of the other rope around his ankles. If it had been Ramorran, he'd probably have done a quick and shoddy job to get out of the wet, but Wengar was perhaps thinking of his bid for the crown and took his time, ensuring the damp rope was tight around his ankles; impossible to wriggle out of.

Especially once Vonda had done likewise with his wrists. The waves brushed over his feet, cool and restless as they lapped his ankles. He swallowed again, knowing the water would rise and rise until it covered him from head to toe.

"Secure?" Wengar asked.

"Secure," Vonda confirmed.

They began to move and panic sent a spurt of alarm through Ramorran's veins. "Wait!" He swallowed. Too late for a plea for clemency. His thoughts whirled and settled on one final thing. "My skin," he said.

Vonda stepped into view. "It'll be destroyed," she told him calmly, as though it barely mattered.

"Please. Let Zelzie keep it. Something to remember me by." He saw the refusal gathering in her expression. "Don't punish her simply to punish me. My last request."

Vonda looked as though she were chewing a lemon, but she gave a tight nod. "If she agrees."

"Thank you." He settled back against the rock, the cool water pulling at his ankles. He glanced left to the cave, then right to look out to sea. A white-sailed boat drifted past, far out to sea, life continuing on without him. The scene was oddly peaceful. Ramorran dragged his attention back to here and now.

"May the fates have mercy on you," Wengar stated.

Ramorran wanted to ask why Wengar was abdicating that job to the fates when the people who'd known and supposedly loved him hadn't shown any mercy, but he held on to enough sense to know sarcasm would have no effect on the man. And they might take their anger out on Zelzie; that would make things infinitely worse. He'd bear this for her sake.

Wengar scrambled towards the caves. Vonda didn't follow. After a moment, Ramorran realised with horror that she intended to stay.

"Don't watch."

"Someone should." She looked past him to the sea and sky beyond, already unable to look him in the eye.

"Do you doubt your knots?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. The boat out at sea had reminded him of Hakan, and his heart broke at the knowledge that by nightfall he'd be dead. He couldn't allow his love to arrive and find his lifeless body. For Hakan's sake as much as his own he had to find a way out. And he needed to be alone for that.

She shook her head. "You aren't going to escape."

Ramorran smiled bitterly. "Exactly. Give me some privacy. Drowning's a nasty death. Can you grant me the dignity of not having you watch as I struggle and choke?"

Vonda's expression tightened and he guessed she was imagining how unpleasant it would be to witness a man dying the way he'd been condemned to die. More unpleasant for him, but he didn't care if it was self-interest that prompted his sister to give him what he needed.

"Very well. The sea will take care of you."

In all ways. She retreated back over the rocks. Ramorran watched until she was out of sight, then counted to one hundred to ensure she made it back to the cavern.

The waves were lapping at his knees when he finished and turned the other way, seeking the boat that had passed by earlier. The white-sailed dhow was still within sight. It hadn't been passing by. It was waiting.

Ramorran's heart leapt. Hakan had come to meet him the way they'd agreed. He'd come early, following his own rules like ever. Perhaps he'd hoped Ramorran would do likewise. His throat tightened. He'd nearly been fool enough to throw love away for the sake of people who despised him.

But here was the chance he'd been hoping for. Hakan was just out of reach, with no idea Ramorran was in danger. And Ramorran wanted more than anything to reject the death his family and all the tribe had dictated for him.

Ramorran had been defying expectations his whole life. Now would be a poor time to stop.

A stronger wave collided with his legs, splashing saltwater high enough to hit his chin. It was a welcome, urgent reminder that time was passing. He turned his head to wipe his face on his damp sleeve. Then he looked out to sea, focussed on the boat containing the man he loved, and began to sing.